David Fincher’s new Netflix thriller The Killer is bloody, violent and seemingly partly tongue in cheek. Its hired assassin hero (Michael Fassbender) is the latest in a very long line of movie hitmen with existential leanings. We never learn his name but we hear a lot about his philosophy on life. In the voiceover that runs throughout the movie, we discover that he likes to listen to The Smiths while on a job. He lives by various sacred rules, “anticipate don’t improvise”, “trust no one” and “forbid empathy” among them. Underlining his strangely poetic nature, he even occasionally makes reference to Dylan Thomas.
A bravura opening sees him waiting for a small eternity high up in a building in Paris to take a shot at the next victim he has been assigned to murder. Ready to take as much time as the job needs, he does a bit of yoga and fiddles with his weaponry. He has little interest in the identity of his victim. The killer is a bit of a voyeur. Like James Stewart in Rear Window, he uses his high-powered binoculars to peer into the lives of everyday people as they go about their business, maybe drinking coffee or making love. He seems to be the consummate professional. “If you are unable to endure boredom, this work is not for you,” he tells us. Then the fateful moment comes when he finally has an opportunity to pull the trigger… and he misses.
